Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Now, it is the thirteenth day since Dawn Star died.

The fleets of the two legions are still parked in the orbit of the dead world. The most conspicuous [Wanzhang Ray] and [Steel Blood] form the two cores of this void mobile empire. More than a hundred large and small ships surround this. Two glorious queens.

The two Primarchs, their respective offspring, and the secondary characters surrounding the Legiones Astartes such as space navigators, representatives of the Mechanicum, and mortal auxiliaries filled this fleet and allowed these steel The giant beast can operate in an orderly manner. With millions of people breathing and working, even a few individuals taking a break will not have any impact on the overall situation.

For example, a senior advisor of the Fifteenth Legion had been in her private room [recuperating] for ten days.

And these ten days were not completely isolated. For example, Ahriman would visit every day, sometimes asking daily whether the soul wound had recurred, and sometimes simply sitting down and chatting carefully with the silver-haired female officer. Ahriman was obsessed with talking about topics related to history, knowledge, and philosophy. He would occasionally even lose track of time, and would not remember the work progress he had delayed until someone specifically reminded him of it.

Morgan could hear some low guilt in the tone of this elite of the Black Crow School, and her display shelves were filled with Ahriman's gifts: two bottles of wine said to be produced by Prospero, a book A collection of poems written by Ahriman himself, as well as three excellent works from the Thousand Sons Captain's private library.

Second only to Ahriman, Atharva came four times. He paid close attention to Morgan's injury with great enthusiasm, but other than that, he had no more common topics. Therefore, his visits were always awkward and short. It is maintained only by Atavan's wonderful conversation.

But Morgan could smell something bad about him.

The good-tempered Thousand Sons looked back on his career as a warrior rather sadly. In his description, he might not return to the front line for a long time: Magnus took a fancy to this heir's diplomatic ability, genetics The Primarch prepared to send Atharva to Holy Terra as a representative of the Thousand Sons Legion stationed in the heart of the Imperium of Man.

Then there is Forsyth, this stance master who is full of elite style. He is not so much here to visit as to complete some kind of routine. He will occasionally discuss issues related to psychic skills with Morgan. He is picky. Language cannot conceal his outstanding achievements in related fields, and next to Ahriman's gift book, there is also a gift from Forsis: it is a book of his different opinions, experiences and analysis of many positions, Forsyth arrogantly lists every worthy opponent he has killed in the prologue as the best proof of the feasibility of his theory.

From a purely utilitarian point of view, this book alone is more valuable than all Ahriman's gifts put together.

And the last person is Hathor, who remains arrogant and lonely: he can hardly even be called a visit. In general, this swordsman of the Bright Feather School is just following Ahriman. After a few awkward polite words, he left in a hurry.

Although several Thousand Sons company commanders and soldiers visited like a revolving door, that was all. For most of these ten days, Morgan completely enjoyed absolute private space.

This gave her enough time and energy to study the treasure in her hands.

——————

After a long time, the silver-haired failure returned to his spiritual kingdom.

Although theoretically, this dark void belongs to Morgan's own kingdom, she almost never returns here because she knows very well that this vast spiritual wilderness does not belong to her. It may belong to a distant place in the void. The gods that appear and disappear may belong to the radiant creator hidden in memory, but they do not belong to Morgan himself.

But despite this, when she walked on the dark land with almost no light, Morgan still felt a long-lost peace of mind, a kind of relief that no longer needed to pretend, no longer needed to ponder, or even no longer needed to think. Feel.

The forces that intended to control her were so powerful that Morgan couldn't resist now. This instead brought a sense of relaxation. She didn't need to maintain the tense state in the outside world at all, because under the absolute power In front of her, her thoughts were useless.

But despite this, she still didn't want to come to this place. She would rather keep her nerves tense and enjoy the short and tiring freedom.

In the deepest darkness, the road is invisible. It is completely an extension of Morgan's self-will and sense of direction. It is like a muddy path covered with new snow, and around this narrow passage, dark blue and bright purple colors are scattered. Horrible riddles, they are low and continuous, spewing all kinds of seductive whispers from them.

When Morgan broke through them, she had to squint her eyes.

In the end, Morgan slowly, firmly and safely arrived at her destination: the rift, her scar, her curse, her only territory.

It doesn't seem to have changed much, because in the past few years, Morgan has not absorbed more souls for herself: although those things are delicious and nutritious, as she grows, she finds that they are not her own survival. Necessities you need, even though you may need them in the future.

However, now that everything is not urgent, some kind of inner motto reminds Morgan not to be overly indulged in the wonderful feeling of devouring the soul, which will make her regret it.

Due to her cautious nature, she finally chose to listen to this inner voice, just as she also listened to the advice of this voice and did not try to drink the souls of ordinary humans.

Therefore, when Morgan set her sights on the canyon, the scene there was exactly the same as what she saw for the first time: the earth was split open, the bottomless abyss, and at the bottom, Morgan The few wisps of snow that can only be seen by looking hard are the last traces left behind by hundreds of thousands of devoured Eldar souls.

Oh, on the other side, there is a touch of black: that is the soul named [Erebus], I don’t know why, it is so unique and thick.

Even with all his thinking, Morgan couldn't figure out why it was so special.

In this ancient doubt, Morgan spread out her left hand, and as she recited the incantation, the marks on her palm slowly lit up, and the fragment of Magnus's soul named [Calimaus] slowly also Floated out of her palm.

Manipulation, change, secrets…

Morgan wasn't sure if Magnus still had these abilities after she took them all away, and wasn't sure if Magnus would encounter unexpected trouble in the future without these abilities.

When she thought about this, it was different from the cold-hearted feeling at the critical moment when she was plundering. When Morgan recalled these crimes in a stable time, a strange emotion flashed deep in her heart. Pass.

She recognized this emotion, it was [Guilt].

Guilt...what is it again?

She thought about it for a moment, but because this emotion was just a fleeting moment, as insignificant as a fiber sticking out from a cut blade of grass, Morgan ultimately didn't think much about it or care about it.

The silver-haired failure continued to chant the spell, and as the ruthless words echoed in the darkness, the soul in Morgan's palm was finally covered by an icy blue light, slowly floated up, and then calmly headed towards the end of the canyon. The bottom moves forward.

[Calimaus] was like a balloon wrapped in steel, and it landed in Morgan's most torn mental area. It was silent for a while, and then it was like a ball of mercury that melted away. Expanding to the land in all directions.

Morgan neither guided nor stopped. She chose to observe and learn in this first action. She witnessed [Calimaus] roaming freely under her absolute control until it extended to The largest area it can expand: At this time, this soul has been covered with a layer of white frost on the bottom of the rift, just like a layer of cream on the bottom of a black cake.

But there is one exception: in the white kingdom of [Calimaus], the black individual named [Erebus] is still so outstanding and so eye-catching.

Who is this guy?

In the end, Morgan didn't care about him. After all, he was just a dead man.

The silver-haired lady jumped down and landed at the bottom of the rift valley. Her boots stepped on the snow-white giant soul that had just fallen, leaving a shallow footprint.

Morgan first looked around. She was quite satisfied to see that Magnus' soul was naturally merging with the edge of the rift. After observing for a while, Morgan began to walk towards the deepest part of the rift.

Along with her footsteps, darkness erodes around Morgan more and more. Even the sharpest light cannot shine on the path she is moving forward. Morgan is groping in this pure darkness, and in the deepest part of the crack Everywhere, in the dark corners of the city, lies the greatest secret of this lost Primarch.

This is a pure natural cell. It has at least twenty doors and is bound by chains as huge as giant beasts. These protective measures are all shaped by Morgan with her own spiritual power. She will All the power he had in this disputed land was used to create this impenetrable prison cell.

From the moment she discovered that thing, she had been working hard just to keep that thing sealed forever, never see the light of day, and never walk in Morgan's spiritual world.

She stepped forward and listened carefully. Through the layers of iron windows, the sound of the wind brought a distorted howl.

After another confirmation, Morgan slowly turned around and left this place, leaving the death row where a prisoner was held.

In the deepest part of the rift, what Morgan fears most is locked up here. It can even be said...

It was the only thing she was afraid of.